


All the Lonely People

by Coru



Series: A Man Who Wasn't There [19]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 00:16:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19860388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coru/pseuds/Coru
Summary: When a tempestuous bride appears on the TARDIS, it is up to the Ninth Doctor and Tommy Connolly to figure out the mystery that surrounds her. AU rewrite of Runaway Bride with the Ninth Doctor.





	All the Lonely People

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I'm just gonna drop this here and run away. 
> 
> Beta read by the ever wonderful Everything_Written.

All the Lonely People  
  
  
  
It was absolutely impossible for a woman to spontaneously appear in the TARDIS. And yet there stood a woman in, of all things, a wedding dress. A very angry, very red-headed woman in a very white wedding dress.  
  
"Who are you?" the bride demanded. No one answered. "Where am I?"  
  
"You—you can't just—" Tommy Connolly stuttered.  
  
"What the hell is this place?" she shouted.  
  
The Doctor folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed furiously at her. "That is impossible, physically impossible!" he said finally. "You can't appear in my ship!"  
  
"Ship? What sort of ship?" the bride asked. "You tell me where I am right now! I demand you tell me, where am I?"  
  
The Doctor stared flatly at her. "Inside the TARDIS."  
  
"The what?" her tone was belligerent.  
  
"The TARDIS."  
  
"The what?" She was beginning to shriek again.  
  
"My TARDIS!" His eyes started to blaze. "My ship, that's where you are. It's called the TARDIS!"  
  
"That's not even a proper word!" the bride accused. "You're just saying things!"  
  
"How did you get here?"  
  
She went rigid with fury. "Well, obviously, when you kidnapped me," she said. "Who was it? Who's paying you? Is it Nerys? Oh, my God, she's finally got me back. This has got Nerys written all over it."  
  
"What’s a Nerys?" Tommy asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.  
  
"Oh you should know; you're her new best friends!" She was shouting again.  
  
The Doctor turned to the console and began to fiddle with dials, ignoring both of them.  
  
"We don't know any Nerys!" Tommy insisted. "You're the one who shows up in our home and starts yelling at us, and what, were you going to a fancy dress party or something?"  
  
She stared at him. Her mouth worked for a moment, and they could almost see the steam building within her. "I was halfway up the aisle, you dolts!" She began to flail her arms and follow the Doctor, apparently dismissing Tommy. "I've been waiting all my life for this. I was just seconds away, and then you—I dunno, you drugged me or something!"  
  
The Doctor looked up, fists clenched around a control. "I didn't do anything," he said. "An' if you'd stop shouting it'd be appreciated, ta."  
  
"We're having the police on you!" she continued ranting. "Me and my husband—as soon as he is my husband—we're gonna sue the living backside off you!"  
  
"Sue? Really?" Tommy looked to the Doctor. "She ends up in an alien spaceship like it's magic and she plans to sue?"  
  
"Tommy," the Doctor sighed.  
  
"Alien spaceship?" The bride looked between them. "You…you're both mad." She spotted the doors across the control room and bolted for them.  
  
"No, oi, wait!" The Doctor reached for her but she was faster. She threw the doors open and stared out into the swirling gold and red strands of the Time Vortex. He muttered something that was not translated by the ship.  
  
"What's that?" Her voice had gone soft and breathy.  
  
"That's…space. Sort of." He shrugged. "We're travellin' through the Vortex. That’s how the TARDIS moves."  
  
"How am I breathing?"  
  
"TARDIS shields," the Doctor said. "She'll protect anyone inside."  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and frightened. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm the Doctor," he said. "An' you?"  
  
"Donna," said the bride.  
  
He leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. "An' you're human," he said, like it was fact.  
  
"Yeah," she replied. A pause, and then she frowned up at him. "Is that optional?"  
  
"For some more than others." His lips twitched in an almost smile. "Tommy's human." He nodded to the boy, still standing by the console.  
  
"But you're not."  
  
"No." His face tightened slightly. "That alright?"  
  
She looked out at the Vortex, the colours dancing a swirling pattern across her face. She didn't answer, but she stepped away, shaking slightly and moving back toward the console. The doors slammed shut and she jumped.  
  
"Right, then," the Doctor said with sudden, furious energy. He stalked back inward. "You've locked yourself onto my TARDIS an' that's impossible. How'd you do it?" He didn't wait for an answer, sliding himself under the console with feline grace and coming up again a moment later with a strange device that looked like it might have pincers and definitely had little cymbals attached at either end. He dug out a headlamp from his pockets and pulled it on, his rather impressive nose coming very close to Donna's. The pincers pinched her arm and she shouted out a loud objection. The device went 'ding' and he looked down, frowning. "That's just—just beautiful." She looked a bit placated by that. "At a subatomic level, of course. Somethin' in the genome? No, you're human, plain, normal, human, nothin' special at all."  
  
"Oi!" He looked up just in time to catch her eye as her palm caught his cheek.  
  
"That hurt!" He rubbed his cheek, scowling at her. "What's that for?"  
  
"Get me to the church!"  
  
"Fine!" He tossed his instrument to the ground and picked up a rubber mallet, slamming it into the console. "Who wants you?" He rotated a few dials, flipped a few switches. "When an' where?"  
  
"When?" She stopped short. "Since when is when an option?"  
  
"Time machine, keep up!" the Doctor retorted. "When an' where?"  
  
"Christmas Eve! December 24th, 2006!" Donna snapped. "Saint Mary's, Hayden Road, Chiswick! London, England!" She may have continued but she spotted a pretty purple blouse draped over a metal strut and her eyes went wide. She crossed to it, picking it up and holding it out accusingly. "I knew it, acting all innocent, but I'm not the first, am I?" she demanded. "How many women have you abducted?"  
  
The Doctor looked up and his expression turned thunderous. "Don't touch that," he said, eyes sparking. "That's my--Rose's."  
  
"Well, where is she, then?" Donna looked around the room, arms wide. "Popped out for a space walk?" He just stared at her for a long moment. "Or are you some sicko? Do you kidnap women, tell them they have to be Rose and dress them up? Am I next?"  
  
"Shut up!" Tommy's voice startled them both. He stalked toward the pair, young eyes blazing. "Do you think we'd want you? A sour old wretch? How dare you? Why would we want _you_ when Rose is dead?"  
  
The words had not been spoken until that moment. Tommy slapped his hand over his mouth, but it was too late. Tears began to fill his eyes and he looked helplessly toward the Doctor. The Time Lord lowered his head for a brief moment before reaching out and pulling the boy into an embrace.  
  
"I—I'm sorry," Donna said haltingly. "But—I just want to get married."  
  
"Then hush up." The words were harsh, but the venom had left the Doctor's voice. "We'll take you back."  
  
Tommy left the console room without a word, grabbing Rose's blouse rather roughly from Donna's hand as he went.  
  
"Give us a mo'," the Doctor said. "Lad needs stitchin' up anyway. Just wait here." He gestured to the jump seat. "An' don't go explorin'. The TARDIS is bigger than she looks—lots of halls to disappear into."  
  
"Like I would!" It was a bit of bluster with no fight behind it.  
  
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "An' don't touch anything. Touch the wrong button an' we end up in a supernova an' that's no fun without proper harnesses."  
  
"Just go, will you?" Donna sighed.  
  
He offered a faint smile in her direction before he strode after Tommy.  
  
Donna stared up at the surroundings, the warm amber lights against the coral suddenly striking her as terribly, terribly alien. She sat on the jump seat, gripped the worn leather until her knuckles turned white, closed her eyes, and wished with all her heart that the past hour had been nothing but a nightmare.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
As it happened, he did not have to go far to find the boy. He had barely passed beyond the kitchen when he found Tommy leaning against the wall, Rose's top clenched in his fist.  
  
"She had no right," the young man said, refusing to meet his eyes.  
  
"She's only human," the Doctor replied. "Meant no harm."  
  
"She's insensitive, and she shouldn't touch other people's things," Tommy snapped.  
  
"Don't disagree with that." The Doctor smiled slightly and put an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Let's sort out your head. Let her wait a bit. She deserves it."  
  
That earned a small smile. "Guess so. I think I could use a bath after too. Maybe a kip."  
  
"We'll see," he replied. "Don't want to leave her with my ship too long. No clue what she might touch."  
  
"Good point." Tommy looked down at the top and chewed his lip. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be--you're the one suffering here. I was just her friend."  
  
"You loved her, doesn't matter what kind it was." The Doctor gave a sad, broken smile. "Easy to love, our Rose."  
  
"Yeah," Tommy nodded, swallowed hard and headed off toward the infirmary.  
  
The Doctor took a moment to follow, bracing himself against the cool metal of the wall. He tried to make peace with the emptiness in his mind, to come to terms with the throbbing pain of having her ripped from him. He prodded uselessly at the space in his telepathic centres where she had once been, like picking at a wound that refused to heal. It would never heal; he knew his own biology well enough to know the ramifications of what he had done. There was a reason that bonding oneself with a lower life form was forbidden…he was lucky to have survived.  
  
Lucky. He shook his head and swallowed his emotions. He had to fix the boy. He had to get the bride back to her wedding. He had to keep running until the pain started to feel small again. He needed that.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
“I said ‘Saint Mary’s’. What sort of Martian are you? Where’s this?” Donna demanded, staring up at the city around her.  
  
“He’s not from Mars,” Tommy corrected, rolling his eyes. “Martians are big giant snow-people.”  
  
“Ice Warriors,” the Doctor clarified absently, stroking the wooden panels of the TARDIS. “Something’s wrong, she’s…ill, or recalibrating.” He strode forcefully back to the console and began keying into the controls. “Doesn’t make any sense. She won’t go any closer. You sure your fiancé is human?”  
  
Donna ignored him. She ignored everything, actually, as she turned around and realized exactly how small the wooden face of the TARDIS was. She walked in a hesitant circle, fingers dragging over the surface of the ship, and took in a sharp, hiccupping breath. She ducked her head in and stared at the Doctor – he shouted another question at her, and she ignored that too.  
  
Tommy smirked. “Yeah,” he said. “Bigger on the inside. Gets folks every time.”  
  
“You’re both loony,” she said. She turned on her heel and went to walk away, but Tommy moved quickly and grabbed her wrist. “Oi, you, get your hands off me.”  
  
“Doctor!” Tommy called. “She’s trying to run off!”  
  
“Well, don’t manhandle her,” the Doctor chided as he came back out, locking the door behind him. “We’ve got to figure out what’s happenin’, an' that won’t work if you scare her off. Be polite, lad. Donna, your fiancé—”  
  
“I just want to get married,” she said sharply, walking toward the street and dragging Tommy with her. “I don’t know where you’ve taken me, and how do I even know that this is the right day? You’ve got a time machine, maybe it’s 1980!”  
  
“Christmas decorations, an’ that car is a 2006,” the Doctor pointed out, just a bit insulted. “Worst case, off a few days, not decades!”  
  
“Or else we’ve ended up on a museum planet that has a really detailed London 2006 diorama,” Tommy interjected.  
  
“That’s only happened the once!”  
  
“I’m going to the church, and I’m getting married, and it will be wonderful,” Donna said. If sheer determination could promise happiness, the Doctor thought she was destined to be the most joyful woman in the world. “Don’t you dare try to stop me.”  
  
“I’m just tryin’ to help!” the Doctor objected.  
  
She grabbed a passerby and begged to know the time. 3:10 in the afternoon. “I’m going to miss it,” she said, near tears. “Couldn’t you get us here earlier? Can we go back in the box?”  
  
“Back in the TARDIS is good—” he stopped. “But we can’t go back in time. Doesn’t work like that. Personal timelines, ends up ugly. Can’t you just phone them?”  
  
“How do I do that?” she asked, going from teary straight back to angry.  
  
“Don’t you have a mobile?”  
  
Her face was rapidly turning splotchy from the emotions roiling within her. “I’m in my wedding dress,” she said. “It doesn’t have pockets. Who has pockets? Have you ever seen a bride with pockets? When I went to my fitting at Chez Alison the one thing I forgot to say is ‘give me pockets'!” the last was fairly shouted at him.  
  
Tommy sighed and rolled his eyes, pulling out his iPhone. “Got a number?” he asked.  
  
“Oh!” she softened immediately and reached for it. She frowned. “Oi, this is an iPod.”  
  
“It’s a phone,” Tommy corrected. “It’s from 2012.” He took it back and got to the dial screen. “There, type the numbers, hit this button.”  
  
“I can figure it out!” she snapped. She tapped in a few keys and held the phone to her ear, bouncing on her heels. “Lance! You there?”  
  
“Donna!”  
  
She almost cried at the chorus of relief she heard around him. “I’m on my way, love, just wait, I’m coming back, I’m in—oh, my God, I don’t know—” she heard a click and then nothing. She held up the phone. “It went away!”  
  
“He hung up,” Tommy said. He hit redial and held it out to her.  
  
“Voicemail,” she whimpered. “Battery must’ve gone. But, he knows I’m coming, at least, right?”  
  
“Yes, very important, now can we go?” The Doctor gestured back toward the ship. “I can probably get a lot closer than this, just gotta go back to the TARDIS.”  
  
“Nope, not getting in there.” She walked straight past him to the street and waved for a taxi. It ignored her. “Why’s his light on?”  
  
The Doctor watched the road and tried to flag the next passing cab. Donna darted after him, tripping over her heels. It passed as well. “That’s rude,” he said, looking after it. He smirked a little to himself. “At least it’s not just me.”  
  
“Oi!” She glared at him. “They think I’m in fancy dress.”  
  
A cabby rolled down his window and shouted at her. “Lay off the scotch, darling!”  
  
“They think I’m drunk,” she added, her anger once again aimed at the Doctor.  
  
“You’re foolin’ no one, mate!” A man driving a small car tooted his horn at her.  
  
She gasped in outrage. “They think I’m in drag!”  
  
“Oh, will you two back up, then?” Tommy rolled his eyes and wandered away from them, getting as close to the road as he dared and doing his best to look terribly, terribly normal. “Taxi!” he called at the top of his voice. Almost immediately one screeched to a halt in front of him.  
  
“Why wouldn’t they stop for me?” the Doctor demanded.  
  
“You look like a drunk from the pub,” Donna replied haughtily.  
  
“At least I’m not wanderin’ about in me wedding clothes,” he said.  
  
“You two getting in, or did you want to argue in the street all day?” Tommy asked, holding open the door to the back.  
  
“You’re comin’ up insufferable,” the Doctor grumbled, clambering after the boy. “Teach a lad a few tricks, suddenly thinks he’s the leader.”  
  
“Saint Mary’s in Chiswick, just off Hayden Road,” Donna instructed the instant she was in the vehicle. “It’s an emergency, I’m getting married! Just…hurry!”  
  
The driver glanced back at them in the mirror. “You know it’ll cost you, sweetheart? Double rates today.”  
  
“Oh, my god!” Donna turned wide eyes on the Doctor. “Have you got any money?”  
  
The Doctor blinked and started patting his jacket pockets. “Ah,” he said. “No.”  
  
They both turned to Tommy. He sighed and pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got a tenner,” he said.  
  
“That won’t get you to Chiswick,” the driver warned, not yet moving.  
  
“Please, I’m beggin’ you, we’ve got the tenner and my entire family is at the church. They’ll pay you the difference, I swear!”  
  
Tommy muttered something that was very, very rude but pulled off the rather lovely and certainly expensive watch that Rose had given him for his birthday. “Sir, you can hold onto this – it’s worth a lot more than cab fare if she doesn’t pay up.”  
  
The driver eyed the watch and nodded, sliding the panel between them to take it from the boy. “All right,” he said. “To Chiswick.”  
  
Donna let out a deep sigh of relief and leaned back in her seat. “God, thought I’d never get going.”  
  
“Those are creepy Santas,” Tommy said, nodding to a group of masked musicians as they passed.  
  
“I hate Christmas,” Donna muttered. “Can’t bear it. We’re supposed to have a honeymoon in Morocco, you know? Sunshine—lovely.”  
  
“I love Christmas,” Tommy replied. “Makes even the difficult people tolerable. Usually.” This was said with a pointed glance at Donna.  
  
“So, Martian,” Donna said, completely ignoring Tommy. “Why’re you still trailing after me? I can get to the wedding myself.”  
  
“Some gratitude,” the Doctor replied, eyes wide. He frowned at her. “An’ I’m not from Mars.”  
  
“Don’t care,” she replied. “Might as well be. Answer the question.”  
  
The Doctor shrugged and adjusted the leather across his chest. “You appeared in my TARDIS once already, obviously there’s a reason. Known to be curious, me.”  
  
Tommy snorted.  
  
The Doctor cleared his throat, looking down his nose at the boy. “Nothin’ from the sidekick, I’ll thank you.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “So, Donna Noble. Where do you work? What do you do? What makes you special?”  
  
She shook her head and half-shrugged. “There’s nothing special about me,” she admitted. “I’m a secretary at HC Clements. I file, I do data entry, that sort of thing. That’s where I met Lance.” Her voice went breathy when she said his name.  
  
“That the brave soul?” he asked, eyebrow raised.  
  
“My fiancé.” She smiled beatifically. “He’s brilliant, Lance. Head of HR, and we met because he made me coffee. Me, a temp, and the head of HR brings me coffee! That just doesn’t happen, you know? Especially not in a posh place like that. No one bothers with the secretaries.”  
  
The Doctor nodded, waiting for her to continue.  
  
“Still, he did,” she said. “And he was nice, he was funny. And it turns out he thought everyone else was really snotty too. So that’s how it started, me and him—one cup of coffee. That was it.”  
  
“When was this?”  
  
“Six months ago,” she replied, smiling beautifully.  
  
“Whirlwind romance, then?” the Doctor prodded.  
  
“Yeah, well, he insisted,” she replied, stuttering slightly. She blushed slightly, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “And he nagged, and he nagged me…He just wore me down and finally, I just gave in.”  
  
“Sounds like a stand-up bloke,” the Doctor acknowledged. “So this job, what’s it do? The company, I mean?”  
  
“HC Clements? They do security systems, you know…entry codes, ID cards – that sort of thing.” She shrugged. “If you ask me, it’s a posh name for ‘locksmiths’.”  
  
The Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver and adjusted the settings. “Keys, eh?” He pointed it at Donna’s face and began to scan her. “Wonder what sort of locks they’ve got.”  
  
“Stop bleeping me!” Donna said hotly. “Anyway, that’s enough of my CV, we’re nearly there!” She leaned forward and bounced in her seat. “Oh, look, they’re still there, oh, thank god!”  
  
The instant the taxi came to a stop she threw herself out of it, rushing for the steps.  
  
"Donna!" a blonde woman in her late fifties called, appearing at the door of the church, an older man in a suit at her side. "Oh, there you are!"  
  
"Mum! Daddy!" Donna was practically in tears. "Oh, it's been a nightmare. Have we still got time?"  
  
"Just barely, Lord, the state of you!" She clucked disapprovingly.  
  
"Mum, could you pay the taxi?" Donna asked, ignoring the commentary. "That stupid spaceboy will want his watch back."  
  
"The taxi!" Mrs Noble exclaimed. "But where did you go? And how did you do it?"  
  
"Mum, I'm getting married," Donna said very firmly. "You pay the taxi; I've got an aisle to walk down!"  
  
"I'll take care of it," her father interrupted. "Go on inside, darling."  
  
Donna beamed at her parents and ran for the doors, calling for her fiancé.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Tommy and the Doctor watched the ceremony from the back of the church.  
  
"Think she'll disappear again?" the boy whispered.  
  
"No clue," the Doctor admitted softly. "Haven't figured out how she got to the TARDIS in the first place, figurin' out if it'll happen again is a whole different kettle of fish."  
  
"So we're following her around until something happens?" Tommy pressed.  
  
"What, have you got plans? Somewhere to be?" the Doctor asked, looking askance at him.  
  
"Nah, just wondering if you planned to get a taxi back to the TARDIS. With no money."  
  
"Oi, I can get money," the Doctor rolled his eyes. "Got the sonic, don't I?"  
  
"Or we could hitch a lift," Tommy suggested, peering through the windows. The Doctor followed his eyes and sighed heavily. Just outside, leaning against a small yellow car, stood Mickey Smith.  
  
"An' I thought I was finally done with him," the Doctor grumbled. "He really gave you his number?"  
  
"Yeah, apparently Brigitta likes me." Tommy grinned a little. "I'm endearing."  
  
"That's a word for it."  
  
"He could also take us to Donna's reception, so we can keep an eye on her."  
  
Applause rang out and they both looked back up to the altar where Donna had wrapped an arm around her new husband, holding him in a perfectly framed kiss.  
  
The Doctor stared; for a moment his vision went fuzzy, and he saw Donna's red hair turn blonde. He shook his head. She was gone. Wishing with both hearts wouldn't bring her back. "Fine," he practically growled. "To the reception."  
  
Within a few moments the guests were pouring out of the pews. Half headed up the aisle to issue their congratulations, and the rest began the race for their vehicles, trying to get out of the church before the next wedding started a revolution. In the chaos it was easy enough to snatch one of the invites as they left, and the Doctor made a beeline for the little yellow car.  
  
"Hey, boss," Mickey greeted warily. "Long time no see."  
  
"'Bout three days for me," the Doctor replied. "Keepin' busy, then, Rickyboy?"  
  
"Three days?" Mickey stared. "So for you, you've only just--I mean, it's not like I've gotten adjusted to it or anything, like I'm not still feelin' it, but you've…you haven't even had a chance to wrap your head 'round it."  
  
He paused at the passenger door and stared at Mickey. "There's no wrappin' me head 'round it," he said, a bit of disbelief in his voice. "She’s dead. I’ll never get used to that." Before the young man could reply, he had slid into the front seat and shut the door behind him.  
  
Mickey nodded to himself, took a deep breath and managed a smile for Tommy as the younger boy approached the vehicle. "Back's a bit tight," he said, opening the door and pulling the driver's seat forward. "Sorry, might be cramped."  
  
"Won't be the worst I've ridden in," Tommy replied, clambering into the back seat. "You should see what passes for transport on Crespallion. All the carriages are designed for people under four feet tall."  
  
"Yeah, you know, these conversations are why I wouldn't ever go with you," Mickey said, pushing the seat back and climbing in himself.  
  
"Lack of an invite isn't good enough?" the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow and passing over the reception invitation he'd swiped from a guest in the chapel.  
  
"He's lying, he'd have you and Brigitta along in a second if you wanted," Tommy said. "Oh, how is she?"  
  
"Good." Mickey turned on the car and pulled onto the road. "She moved in last month. We were talkin' about gettin' married, even. Not right away, but…." He looked at the church in the rear-view mirror. "I want to get her a ring soon, I think."  
  
"Good for you," Tommy said, a pleased sort of smile on his face. "Maybe we'll stop by the flat for a cuppa before we're off, eh, Doctor?"  
  
The Doctor rolled his eyes, but did not comment either way.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Weddings. The Doctor had never much cared for them. Domestics made manifest, that was a wedding reception. Relatives no one much cared for, seating charts, uncomfortable clothes, and half the time a cash bar on top of it all.  
  
He leaned against the far wall, arms folded tight across his chest, daring anyone to approach him. He tried to keep an eye on Donna as she moved about the room, but she was forever darting in and out of well-wishers. He hadn't thought her pretty before, but enough joy can make anyone glow.  
  
A pair of dancers entered his peripheral vision. He saw the too-tall blonde woman with too-light hair and her too-skinny partner - but for a moment he felt transported to the sound of Glenn Miller and Rose in his arms, reminding him how to dance.  
  
She had reminded him how to do so many things, and now he had to forget if he wanted to keep living.  
  
He pushed off from the wall and stalked toward the cameraman set up in the corner, determined to find out once and for all what the bride was up to today. "Oi," he called. "You filmed the wedding?"  
  
The young man nodded. "First an' second go 'round," he said. "D'you want to see?"  
  
"Absolutely," he replied.  
  
The videographer pulled out a tape from his bag and began to load it into the camera. "I taped the whole thing -- they've all had a look. They said 'sell it to You've Been Framed'. I said 'more like the news'. Here we are..."  
  
On the small screen the camera was focused on Donna's beaming face as she walked down the aisle. One moment she was brilliantly happy, the next golden energy began to shimmer around her, and she began to scream in the instant before she vanished entirely.  
  
The Doctor straightened and took control, rewinding the tape and reviewing the footage. "That's impossible," he said.  
  
"Clever, mind!" the cameraman said as the Doctor fiddled with his equipment. "Good trick, I'll give her that. I was clapping."  
  
"As you should do," the Doctor said, staring once again at the image of energy around the bride. "She's got herself doused in Huon particles an' you can't buy that at the perfume counter."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Ancient energy source, gone from most of the universe for billions of years." He shook his head. "There's literally no way she could have done this, an' yet here she is." He lifted his head and found her dancing amid the crowd. "What have you got yourself into, Donna Noble?"  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"God, I hope Gitta's got better taste than this," Mickey muttered. "Wedding at Christmas? 'S just tacky."  
  
"Not very nice, is it?" Tommy frowned at the scenery. "Just a bit selfish, too, eh? Taking over everyone's celebration for your wedding."  
  
Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Don't much care for the bride, then?"  
  
Tommy shifted awkwardly. "She's just…tactless. Said a couple things to the Doctor. We don't need someone coming into the TARDIS and making light of Rose."  
  
Mickey gave him a sharp look. "She made fun of Rose?"  
  
"She didn't realize," he admitted, grudgingly. "She was upset about missing the wedding and just sort of…took it out on us."  
  
"Right," Mickey sighed. "An' Big Ears didn't take it so well?"  
  
"Better than me," Tommy said, wincing. "I know they had something special, but…she was my friend."  
  
Mickey smiled ruefully. "For the longest time, years and years, I pictured my wedding with Rose as the bride." Tommy bristled beside him, but he continued. "An' now when I think about it, I see Gitta. But it still ain't okay to picture that day without her there, teasin' me, tellin' me she's jealous, even if she don't mean it. You don't stop lovin' Rose Tyler, it just changes."  
  
"I'm glad he's still got me," Tommy admitted, folding his arms. "I know I'm just a kid, someone he's got to take care of, but…"  
  
"You matter to him, you're his friend," Mickey corrected. "Look, I don't call myself an expert on time travellin' aliens or anything, but Gitta's done a lot of research, mostly since I got her in touch with Sarah Jane Smith. He pretty much always had someone with him, at least all the times anyone can find record of on Earth. I think it's good for him. 'Specially now. He shouldn't be alone."  
  
Tommy hummed thoughtfully, but didn't reply.  
  
There was a long silence, but it was companionable. They watched the reception with equal parts interest and distaste.  
  
Tommy leaned against the bar, sipping on a Coke. “So, you and Brigitta are really going to get married?”  
  
Mickey shrugged awkwardly. “Not for another couple of years, probably,” he replied. “She’s got aspirations. Ms Smith put her in touch with some people at UNIT an’ she’s doing all these internships. She wants to work there for real after she graduates.”  
  
“So long as she doesn’t work with Torchwood,” Tommy said darkly.  
  
Mickey was silent for a long moment. “She wouldn’t,” he said. “That was the worst day of either of our lives. She’d never seen anything like that before.”  
  
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Had anyone?” he asked. “Daleks and Cybermen fought for the right to destroy humanity. It was a bad day.”  
  
“Yeah.” Mickey folded his arms and stared out the window. He blinked, then stiffened and cursed.  
  
“What?” Tommy followed his gaze. “Oh. Creepy Santas? They were around earlier today too.”  
  
“I’ve seen those before!” Mickey replied, turning sharply and running back to the dance floor. He spotted the Doctor sulking under some decorations and bolted toward him. “Trouble!” he shouted as soon as he had the Time Lord’s attention.  
  
Immediately the sulk vanished and the Doctor stiffened. “Wanna be a bit more specific?” he asked as Mickey skidded to a stop before him.  
  
“Killer robot Santas,” Mickey replied. “Tried to murder me an’ Jackie last year.”  
  
“Killer robot Santas,” the Doctor repeated. Mickey nodded. A slow smile spread across the Doctor’s face. “Fantastic,” he laughed aloud. “Oh, fantastic.”  
  
"And here we thought going to a wedding would be boring," Tommy said, sharing the Doctor's grin.  
  
He beamed at the boy and turned his head toward the crowd, gaze finally alighting on the bride. "Donna!" he called, forcing his way across the dance floor.  
  
She was already glaring by the time she turned around. "None of your nonsense, spaceman, it's my wedding reception!"  
  
"Killer robot Santas," Tommy said. The doors burst open at that moment and a trio of Saint Nick's entered the hall.  
  
"Oh, of course it is!" Donna snapped. "Do you ever make sense?"  
  
"Not if I can avoid it!" The Doctor shot her a mad grin. "Right, Donna, time to run for your life!"  
  
She jerked back and looked at the hall. “My family,” she said; a tinge of desperation in her voice. The revellers had gone quiet for the moment. “Are they safe?”  
  
“I’ll get them out,” Mickey promised. “You three run – get her!” He shoved Donna at Tommy and ran full force toward the closest Santa, knocking it into the next over. “Get away from the trees!” he yelled to the crowd as the decorations started to move. “Get out, run!”  
  
The sound of screams blended with exploding ornaments and again, Donna hesitated. The Doctor grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her after him. “They’ll follow us,” he assured her. “Faster we run safer they are!”  
  
“Oh, what a comfort!” Donna accepted his grip and followed as fast as her dress allowed. They paused just outside the hall. “Where are we going now?” she asked. “Do you even have a plan?”  
  
“Of course not,” Tommy replied. “What good would that do? It’s only going to fall apart.”  
  
“Oi, I have a plan!” The Doctor gave them each and offended glare. “Jus’ happens to involve a lot of running!”  
  
“Glad we’re trying something new and different,” Tommy muttered. Another glare, and he shrugged innocently. “Right, where are we running to?”  
  
“Somewhere with no people.” The Doctor looked around. Right. London on Christmas Day. “Well, fewer people,” he amended.  
  
“There’s a park that way.” Donna pointed up the road. “It’s small and ugly, shouldn’t be busy.” The Doctor hesitated. Donna rolled her eyes and this time she grabbed his hand, dragging him after her.  
  
The crowds along the pavement parted rather easily; Tommy rather thought that the sight of a woman in full wedding dress running full-tilt down the street was fairly abnormal for even the most jaded of Londoners.  
  
Donna hadn’t lied. The park was hideous. Poorly planned, more gravel than grass, and other than a couple passing through at the other end, completely empty.  
  
“Alright, what now?” Tommy asked, looking around. “Hit them with sticks?”  
  
“Humans,” the Doctor scoffed. He brandished the sonic screwdriver in one hand and a small disc covered in mesh.  
  
Tommy recognized it. It was an amplifier they had stolen from Torchwood. He ducked and covered his ears an instant before a hideous, shrieking feedback split the air.  
  
A moment later the approaching Santas had tumbled to the ground, and the Doctor continued. “Millions of years of evolution an’ what’s your first thought? Hit it with a stick.”  
  
“Oi, Martian, you’re the one that led us to an empty park, what’s he supposed to think?” Donna demanded, shaking her head to clear the noise. “We haven’t all got magic screechy-wand things.”  
  
“It’s a sonic screwdriver,” the Doctor replied, glaring.  
  
“Oh, well, obviously.”  
  
The Doctor didn’t dignify that with an answer. He grabbed the nearest Santa, revealing the robot behind the mask. “They’ve got strong receivers,” he said, adjusting the settings on the screwdriver. “Means the transmitter’s far off. The signal’s comin’ from –” he looked up. “Comin’ from the sky.”  
  
“Wait, Doctor…” Donna bit her lip. “Why is it me? What have I done?”  
  
“Guess we’ll have to ask.”  
  
“To the TARDIS?” Tommy asked, looking up at the clouds. “Could we trace it?”  
  
“Won’t last that long.” He shook the screwdriver. “Already fadin’.” He muttered some words that the TARDIS did not translate and turned around, staring intently at her. “Alright, Donna Noble, there’s something interestin’ about you, where is it? Hobbies, encounters with anything strange?”  
  
“Other than you?” she asked, briefly irritated before sighing. “Really not, I mean, I’m not in any clubs or anything, haven’t seen anything fall from the sky. I have a little flat, and I work as a temp. I haven’t done anything special.”  
  
“Alright.” The Doctor began to pace. “Parents maybe? Any friends who might have come across somethin’?”  
  
“Doubt it. Don’t know anybody who’s special, and I haven’t spent much time with anyone in a while anyway, mostly been with Lance.”  
  
“Right. Fiancé and boss.” He stopped and turned to Tommy. “Check the internet – what’s HC Clements’ background? Where’re they from, when’d they come together? Bought by anyone lately?”  
  
There was a pause to the conversation as Tommy pulled out his iPhone and tapped at it. He paled and looked up. “Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “They were bought out last year, before that they were owned and managed by Torchwood.”  
  
The Doctor took a deep breath. “That’s the start, then.”  
  
“What’s Torchwood?” she asked.  
  
“Behind the Battle of Canary Wharf,” the Doctor replied shortly. “Cybermen invasion, Daleks everywhere, you mighta noticed it.”  
  
“Oh, I was in Spain.”  
  
He tilted his head at her. “There were Cybermen in Spain.”  
  
“Scuba diving.”  
  
“Alright, that’s interestin’ then, you live inside some sorta bubble.” He shook his head and gave her a long, appraising look. “Wonder if that’s related? Utter ignorance?”  
  
“No need to be rude,” Donna pointed out.  
  
“Not bein’ rude, just worth thinkin’ on.” He shrugged. “Not a bad job, if it lasted. Impervious to alien invasions, could be a nice skill.”  
  
“Except I’m not exactly being impervious right now, am I?” she asked. “Do you really think the fact that I never met a Cyberman is related?”  
  
“Nope, not at all.” He shot her a quick grin.  
  
“But you think this Torchwood thing might be?”  
  
His smile dropped. “Could,” he replied quietly. “Nothin’ good comes from them.”  
  
Tommy spoke softly. “They killed Rose.”  
  
Donna took in a sharp breath as the Doctor’s eyes went flat. “Oh,” she said softly, helplessly. There was a long silence between them and she laid her hand over his sleeve. “I’m sorry.”  
  
The Doctor looked at his arm and worked his jaw as if trying to find words. None came. He nodded. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “Not gonna accomplish anything sittin’ in a park whingin’, we need a next step. Ideas, Tommy Connolly?”  
  
“Well, we’ve got someone full of ancient glowing alien energy,” Tommy said, ticking off on his fingers. “Killer robot Santas, something in the sky controlling the killer robot Santas, and Torchwood involved somehow.”  
  
“About right,” the Doctor agreed. “Santas are easy enough to explain, just foot soldiers. But Huon particles…shouldn’t be at all, can’t be created an’ haven’t existed naturally in millennia. But we have artificial ones in a human that’s alive an’ well. Doesn’t make sense, oughta be impossible.”  
  
“Obviously not,” Donna interrupted. “I’ve just got married, I’m going on a honeymoon, so this better get sorted out. The only glowing I’m gonna be doing is from a fantastic tan, so this is getting sorted today.”  
  
“’Course it is,” he agreed. “Impossible’s my specialty, six impossible things before breakfast an’ all that. Oh, there we go, lad, next trip we’ll go meet Lewis Carroll.”  
  
“Could you be serious for five minutes?” Donna asked, narrowing her eyes.  
  
“Oi, I am serious!” the Doctor objected. “Haven’t met him before, an’ the man’s a genius with words.”  
  
“Glowing alien dust!”  
0  
“Alright, fair enough.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared up at the sky. “Next stop’s the office – where’s it?”  
  
“It’s halfway across town,” Donna replied. “Need a car or a taxi, I’m not taking the tube in my wedding dress,” she said the last firmly, as if expecting an argument.  
  
“Never said you should,” the Doctor replied. He sighed. “Time to talk to Ricky again then.”  
  
“We won’t all fit,” Tommy said. “Not with that dress.”  
  
“Lance has a car,” Donna said. “He can drive.”  
  
The Doctor nodded firmly and clasped Tommy on the shoulder. “Come on, lad, back to the party.”  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Half an hour later the trio was staring up at HC Clements, Lance and Mickey – and their respective vehicles – behind them.  
  
“Right, so, eight months ago Torchwood collapsed,” the Doctor said, leading the way in. “But HC Clements didn’t. Didn’t even suffer a hiccup.”  
  
“But no one knew they were connected,” Lance said. “Why would it have made a difference to them?”  
  
“Should’ve at least made the rounds with employees but didn’t, means someone took over,” the Doctor replied.  
  
“But what do they want with me?” Donna asked, following closely. “I haven’t got anything to do with Torchwood, I didn’t even work here then.”  
  
“They’ve topped you up with energy that can’t exist, that disappeared millions of years ago. They need it for somethin’, an’ they’ve got you as a host.” He stopped abruptly and turned to her. “We’ll get it out of you,” he promised. “They’re not gettin’ what they want, an’ I’m gonna save you. I promise.”  
  
“Save me?” Donna’s voice grew very small. “What do you mean?”  
  
“There’s a reason Huon particles were destroyed,” he replied. “But I’ll sort it. I’ll find out what they want, I’ll stop them, an’ I’ll get you home safe.”  
  
“Okay.” She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “What now then, Martian Man?”  
  
“Now we go ask,” he said with a grin. “Comin’?”  
  
“Obviously,” she replied, rolling her eyes.  
  
Tommy handed his iPhone to the Doctor. “I’ve got the building plans pulled up. Penthouse, you think?”  
  
The Doctor quirked an eyebrow and crossed to the lift, comparing the document to the buttons. “Wrong way,” he said. He pointed to the plans. “We’re at reception. Second level, basement under us. So where’s this go?”  
  
There was a lower silver button labelled ‘Lower Basement’.  
  
“Super villain evil lair?” Tommy asked, grinning. “Sounds like fun.”  
  
“Just so long as there’s no cats,” Mickey replied. “I’m allergic.”  
  
“It needs a key,” Donna pointed out.  
  
“Not to me,” the Doctor said, aiming the sonic screwdriver at the locked button. “Now, you two, off on your honeymoon. Tommy an’ I’ve got it.”  
  
“Hey!” Mickey objected, looking rather put out. “What’m I?”  
  
“A question I’ve been askin’ for years,” the Doctor replied. Mickey gave him a sour look.  
  
“I’m staying, Martian. You two keep saving my life, I ain’t letting you out of my sight.”  
  
The Doctor gestured inward. “Get on then,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at Lance, who was shifting awkwardly.  
  
“Maybe I should go to the police,” the groom suggested.  
  
“Inside.” Donna’s voice left no room to argue, and he followed.  
  
The Doctor smirked to himself.  
  
“Day one, mate,” Mickey said.  
  
“Don’t remind me,” Lance muttered.  
  
“Oi!” Donna snapped.  
  
The lift went quiet as they descended.  
  
The doors opened and they stepped into a dank concrete hall, its eerie green light stretching far in both directions.  
  
“Where are we?” Donna asked, peering around. “What goes on down here?”  
  
“No information desk,” Tommy said.  
  
“Then we’d best go find someone to ask,” the Doctor replied, grinning.  
  
“Do you think Mr Clements knows about this place?” Donna wondered aloud.  
  
“Should do, hard to keep somethin’ this big from the boss,” the Doctor said. He spotted a trio of Segways and grinned. “Good thing we’ve got a lift.”  
  
“There’s not enough of them,” Tommy pointed out. “Five people. Three of those…whatever they ares.”  
  
“Like a scooter on two wheels,” Mickey replied. “Pretty geeky.”  
  
“Let’s pretend you don’t desperately want to ride one,” the Doctor replied with a roll of his eyes. “Then three of us on these, two on foot. Might do to go opposite directions.”  
  
Mickey sighed. “Which way am I walkin’?”  
  
“Why do you assume you are?” Lance asked.  
  
“Because Big Ears there isn’t lettin’ the kid out of his sight, an’ your girl’s already said she’s stickin’ with them. Leaves us on our feet, mate.”  
  
Lance looked outraged. “Why should I have to walk?”  
  
“Got it just about right,” the Doctor replied. “Tommy stays with me. Donna can trade off with Ricky if she wants to go with you.”  
  
Donna gave Lance a pleading look. “He keeps saving my life,” she said.  
  
He pursed his lips and scowled. “Fine,” he said. “I didn’t even want to come, but yeah, I’ll go in the opposite direction.” He turned and stalked away from the transports, ignoring Donna calling after him and Mickey following behind.  
  
“Well, now that they’ve gone off,” the Doctor said, hopping onto one of the devices. “You comin’?”  
  
Donna climbed on her own and exchanged amused grins with the Doctor. Tommy approached the remaining vehicle with more caution than he had given to a planet orbiting a black hole. “They’re not going to tip?” he asked.  
  
“Oi, would I put you in danger?” the Doctor demanded. Donna and Tommy both stopped and in perfect sync raised eyebrows. “No appreciation around here,” he muttered to himself. “Yes, Tom, they’re safe. Climb on.”  
  
With great reluctance he did so, and the trio started their journey. It seemed to go for miles, at least by Tommy’s nervous estimation. It was his opinion that Donna and the Doctor were both entirely too entertained by the devices. First just happily enjoying the ride, until they both burst into giddy laughter. Tommy was only too happy when they finally came across a bulkhead door marked with the familiar and hated logo of Torchwood – warning ‘AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY’.  
  
The Doctor turned the heavy wheel lock and yanked it open, peering up a ladder. “Well, we’ve got a big heavy door leading to great big tall ladder.”  
  
“Gonna climb it?” Tommy asked.  
  
“No, just thought I’d wave hello an’ go about my way,” the Doctor replied with a roll of his eyes. “Ladder’s gotta go somewhere.” He pointed at Tommy. “You keep an eye on her. Your job to protect her ‘til I get back.”  
  
Tommy nodded as the Doctor grabbed hold of the bars and started hauling himself up.  
  
“Where do you think it’s going, really?” Donna asked quietly.  
  
“No idea,” Tommy admitted honestly. “I don’t know London very well. Especially not the new London.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Oh, I’m from 1953,” he explained quickly. “The Doctor and Rose saved us from this thing that was sort of, absorbing people’s faces and brains. I helped him save her so he invited me along. I’ve been with them…” he paused and swallowed hard. “With him ever since. Few months now.”  
  
She bit her lip. “How long’s it been?” her voice was soft, gentler than he’d heard her be so far.  
  
“Just a couple of days for us,” Tommy replied. “We spent some time packing up their old flat into the TARDIS, and then you were there.”  
  
“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did,” she said. “Talked about her like that.”  
  
He shrugged. “You didn’t know. He’s really a lot nicer than he seems, he’s just –”  
  
“Just lost his wife,” Donna filled in. “And then I show up like this, shouting about my wedding. Of course he didn’t like me.”  
  
“Not like you? What’s not to like?” They both jumped at the Doctor’s voice, exchanging guilty looks as he reached the floor behind them. “We’re under the Thames. Flood barrier right above us.”  
  
“What, there's like a secret base hidden underneath a major London landmark?” Donna asked.  
  
“Where else would you keep it, Paddington station? C’mon, no time to waste! We’ve got your life to save, Donna Noble!”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The walk had largely been silent, punctuated only by Lance’s mutters and grumbles, until he finally stopped and turned to Mickey.  
  
“Who are you lot, really?”  
  
Mickey gave a little shrug. “I’m a mechanic. Work at a garage. The Doctor just sort of travels around, Tommy’s his sidekick of the day.”  
  
“But who does he work for?”  
  
Mickey snorted. “You figure that out, you let me know, eh?” He started walking again, and Lance followed. “He doesn’t work for anyone. He just does what he wants.”  
  
“He’s really an alien?” Lance didn’t sound quite as disbelieving as Mickey thought the question deserved, but he nodded.  
  
“Yeah. Dunno where from, Rose never said.”  
  
“Rose?”  
  
Mickey went quiet for a moment. “She was my best mate. My girlfriend, until she met the Doctor. Ran off with him. She died.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, yeah, that’s how I know him. The Doctor. She brought him home to visit sometimes. Now he travels with Tommy. Good kid, ‘s far as I can tell.”  
  
“But what do they get out of it?” Lance persisted. “He didn’t even have money for a taxi, how do they just travel?”  
  
“Doctor’s got a ship of his own,” Mickey replied. “Doesn’t get anything out of it. Just wanders around, sees the universe, saves people, stops alien invasions, that sort of thing. He’s brilliant, but don’t ever tell him I said it. Don’t care how big his ship is, his ego’s bigger.”  
  
“And now he’s planning to save Donna,” Lance said.  
  
Mickey paused and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Doctor always saves people. It’s what he does.”  
  
“Except for this Rose,” Lance pointed out, voice raised with something very much unlike fear.  
  
Mickey nodded slowly. “So,” he said conversationally. “Exactly what are you gettin’ outta turnin’ Donna into a science experiment?”  
  
Lance stopped, his eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”  
  
Mickey folded his arms. “What, you think ‘cause I’m from an estate I’m stupid? You find out your girl might be dyin’ an’ you’re askin’ me about the Doctor. You hear he couldn’t save his girl so you get hopeful that maybe he won’t be able to save yours. So what, is it an alien? Some scientist wants to know how humans can grow radioactive particles? What’re they payin’ you?”  
  
Lance scoffed. “You think it’s about money?” he asked. “I’ve got money. I’m getting out of here – I’m going to see it all. Donna’s not much to pay for the whole universe at my fingertips.”  
  
“Guess that’s true,” Mickey nodded. Lance relaxed for just a moment before Mickey’s fist slammed straight into his face. “There’s a whole different world out there, mate,” he said, throwing the older man to the ground. “Welcome to it.”  
  
Dragging an unconscious man was not as easy as the movies made it seem, but Mickey’d had more experience at it than any other man he’d met -- minus firefighters at least. He didn’t have a pair of cuffs or rope to tie the man to a post, but he figured at least one of these doors had to lock.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It was a strange laboratory, full of thick tubes of bubbling liquid and a great pit in the centre. The Doctor leaned over and peered down, raising an eyebrow. “Strange hobbies, this lot,” he said. He turned back to the liquid and his eyes brightened. “Oh, that’s beautiful. Do you see?” He pulled Tommy over. “River’s runnin’ overhead, immense pressure movin’ every second. Run it through the right chemical filters an’ you’ve got inert Huon particles. Genius, really. Almost a shame to destroy it.”  
  
“But you’re going to?” Donna asked, eyeing the pipes.  
  
“Of course,” the Doctor replied. “Told you they were deadly, didn’t I? They unravel the atomic structure, the only place you’ll find them now is in the heart of the TARDIS. They can only catalyse in living things, that’s the danger of ‘em. That’s what they’ve got you for, whoever it is is usin’ you to activate the Huons.”  
  
“But why?” She looked up at him, trying hard to hide her fear. “What do they want?”  
  
“You said the Huons are only in the TARDIS,” Tommy said. “Are they trying to make a time machine?”  
  
“Doubt it. It’s in the TARDIS but it’s not what powers her,” the Doctor replied. “It’s just a fragment of the vortex. Doesn’t do any good for that. Huons generate enormous energy but it’s destructive, why do it? What’s worth the risk?”  
  
“What made it happen _today_?” Donna asked.  
  
“Wedding day, wasn’t it? Big bubblin’ cauldron of emotions, you. Adrenaline, acetylcholine, endorphins, all those hormones goin’ wild at once.” He gave her a grin. “Most excitin’ moment of your life walkin’ down that aisle, Huons just decided to join in the party. They got excited, activated, latched onto their nearest mates an’ pulled you straight into my TARDIS.”  
  
“We still don’t know _why_ ,” Tommy said. “What’s the point of it? And who’s behind it?”  
  
A disembodied voice echoed in the room. “I have waited so long, hibernating at the edge of the universe until the secret heart was uncovered and called out to waken!”  
  
The wall behind them slid open, and revealed a wide room with a deep hole. Around the room Santas in black robes stood, guns pointed at the small party. The Doctor approached the pit and peered down curiously. “Now, that’s impressive. Laser drilled, even. Where’s that to?”  
  
“Down and down, all the way to the centre of the Earth!”  
  
The Doctor raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Tommy. He shook his head. “Why? What’re you lookin’ for?”  
  
“Dinosaurs,” Donna said.  
  
The Doctor paused and frowned at her. “What?”  
  
“Dinosaurs?”  
  
“What dinosaurs?”  
  
“That film, under the Earth, with dinosaurs. Trying to help.”  
  
“Like Jules Verne?” Tommy offered.  
  
The Doctor perked up and gave him a quick grin. “Oh, remind me to introduce you. Brilliant bloke.”  
  
“Such a sweet family,” came the voice.  
  
“I’m about done talkin’ to thin air!” the Doctor snapped, every hint of joviality vanishing as if it had never been. “And this isn’t the day to test my patience. Show yourself!”  
  
“Who are you with such command?”  
  
He set his jaw. “I’m the Doctor.”  
  
“Prepare your best medicines, doctor man, for you will be sick at heart.”  
  
There was a glow of light and the humans reared back at the sight of the creature who appeared. It looked like a giant red arachnid, with six black eyes over sharp yellow teeth that clicked between words. “Oh God, I hate spiders,” Tommy whispered. Donna made a noise of agreement.  
  
The Doctor paused. He frowned. “Racnoss? How’re you a _Racnoss_?”  
  
“Doctor, what’s a Racnoss?” Tommy asked.  
  
“The Empress of the Racnoss,” she corrected with a _hiss_ and a _click_.  
  
“Easy to be Empress when you’re the only one,” the Doctor said, walking casually around the hole. “Where’ve you been hidin’?”  
  
“I have been in hibernation, awaiting this day!”  
  
“Waitin’ in the shadows, last of a dead race,” the Doctor said, a note of something bleak in his voice. He shook it off and addressed Tommy’s question. “Billions of years ago the Racnoss were a plague. Omnivores. They destroyed entire planets. The whole universe came together to fight them.”  
  
The Empress hissed at him. “Racnoss are born starving. Is that our fault?”  
  
“They eat people?” Donna asked, her eyes wide.  
  
“Guessing so,” Tommy said. Donna turned to him, frowning. He pointed up, and her eyes followed. There was a web pinned against the ceiling, a pair of black and white shoes sticking out of one end.  
  
“Mr Clements!” she gasped. “Oh my god!”  
  
“Mmm. My Christmas dinner,” the Empress said smugly.  
  
“An’ that’s the last one you’ll have. You don’t belong here.” The Doctor narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “Your people were wiped out. What’s the point of you?”  
  
“I live,” she replied. “The Racnoss will live again!”  
  
The sound of a gun being cocked pulled every eye across the room. At the top of a set of metal stairs stood Mickey Smith with a long, thin gun in his hand, pointed directly at the Empress. “You sure you want to take that bet?” he asked.  
  
“When did you start carryin’ a gun?” the Doctor demanded.  
  
Mickey’s eyes were flat and cold. “After I gave Rose’s eulogy,” he replied. The Doctor flinched back. “You’re not always here, Doctor, and Torchwood had a lot more than magna clamps and sonic disruptors.”  
  
“Do you think I fear you? Tiny human and your little weapon!” the Empress laughed and the Santas turned to bear on him. “You will cower before the Racnoss!”  
  
“Don’t think so, mate,” Mickey replied. He reached into his lower cargo pocket, keeping his weapon carefully trained on the Empress. He pulled out what looked like a small video game controller. “You might get a shot off on me, but I’ve played Call of Duty with a broken arm before.” He hit a button and the robots went slack. “Even with one hand I can still find the ‘pause’ button.”  
  
“Where’d you get that?” Tommy asked.  
  
“Reception hall, nicked it off one of the dead robots,” Mickey replied, slowly descending the stairs.  
  
Tommy shot Donna a quick grin. “See?” he asked. “Pockets!”  
  
She glared at him, and replied in a low, gravelly voice. “Wedding. Dress.”  
  
The Racnoss hissed and jerked away. “It is no matter!”  
  
“Tell me what is down there,” the Doctor demanded. “I can help you.”  
  
“I do not need your help! My future lies below!” she replied. “The future of the Racnoss!”  
  
“What do you mean the future?” he asked. “You haven’t got a future, you’re –” he paused. “Oh, you’re not the last, are you?” He shook his head. “Of course you’re not. It was a nest, not a home. You’ve laid eggs down there.”  
  
“How’d they lay eggs in the center of the Earth?” Donna asked. “Did they dig another hole?”  
  
“Maybe it was dinosaurs?” Tommy suggested, smirking at Donna.  
  
She scowled and hit him on the back of his head.  
  
The Racnoss hissed. “I did not dig through dirt! Your planet built itself, grew upon the heart of the Racnoss, preparing itself as a feast for my children!”  
  
“Grew _around_ it?” The Doctor paused and slowly his eyebrows rose. “Grew around it. You created the first gravity field. You pulled in the rocks and dust and formed a planet to protect your nest; what a dedicated mother you are.” He almost sounded genuinely impressed, before his expression settled again. “Stand down. I’ll find you a planet to live on; it doesn’t have to be like this. You can coexist with the universe.”  
  
“My children do not fear the puny human and his toy! We will feast on the flesh of humanity and the universe itself will cower!”  
  
“Think carefully before you turn me down,” he said, his eyes cold.  
  
“Little Martian man is so funny,” she cackled.  
  
“I’m not from Mars,” he replied. “I warned you. I gave you a chance, and you ignored it.”  
  
“You matter little, my non-Martian!” She pointed a long claw at him. “Your home is no more safe than the Earth!”  
  
“My home is gone,” he replied. His expression was carved from stone. “Billions of miles away, and long since dead, but you remember. Millions of years ago your people were sentenced to death, and now I’m the only one left to finish the job.”  
  
“Where then?” she demanded. “Who are you to threaten the Empress of the Racnoss?”  
  
“I’m the Doctor,” he said. “The only remnant of the Shining World of the Seven Systems.” He paused. “The last son of Gallifrey.”  
  
All eyes were firmly on the queen as she reared back to her full height and hissed down at them. “Time Lord!” she cried. “Murderers! You murdered the Racnoss!”  
  
“It’s not murder if they’re saving the universe!” Tommy objected. “You have the choice to live somewhere good without hurting people and you’re saying you don’t want to! _That’s_ murder!”  
  
“That is _life_!” The sudden amusement in the voice of the queen made the humans shift nervously. “My children must feed to live, and you, little fools, will be their sup!”  
  
Tommy grunted as a hard shove from behind knocked him into Mickey, toppling them both to the ground. Mickey landed half over the pit, peering down into the inky blackness and watching his gun fall to the depths. The Doctor’s hand was on the back of his shirt an instant later, hauling him to his feet.  
  
Lance stood behind them, slowly circling toward the stairs that led to the Racnoss. He bore the beginnings of a hideous bruise across his cheek, and his lip looked like it had split. He glared fiercely at the humans.  
  
“Lance?” Donna’s brow furrowed, expression bouncing between confusion and concern. “What happened to you?”  
  
“Your chav there.” He pointed at Mickey. “Knocked me out and locked me in a room.”  
  
“Oi!” Mickey glared back. “I’m not the wanker tryin’ to murder my wife!”  
  
“You’re married?” Donna asked, tilting her head at him.  
  
“Not me. Him.” Mickey nodded toward Lance.  
  
“God, she’s thick,” Lance said, shaking his head.  
  
She frowned at him. “What?”  
  
Lance snorted. “Months I had to put up with her. Months. A woman who can't even point to Germany on a map.”  
  
“I don’t understand.”  
  
The Doctor’s eyes softened as he looked at her. “Six months,” he said. She blinked at him, her brow creasing. “Those particles were introduced slowly to your system, ingested over the course of six months.”  
  
Tommy’s stomach gave a lurch as he understood suddenly what the Doctor had already seen.  
  
“And I made you coffee,” Lance said.  
  
Her eyes slowly dimmed as realization began to set in. “You were poisoning me?”  
  
“Don’t look so pathetic, I would have had it over and done with if I could.”  
  
“But...we were getting married.”  
  
Lance scoffed. “Well, I couldn't risk you running off. I had to say yes. And then I was stuck with a woman who thinks the height of excitement is a new flavour Pringle. Oh, I had to sit there and listen to all that yap yap yap -- ‘oh, Brad and Angelina -- is Posh pregnant?’ X Factor, Atkins Diet, Feng Shui, split ends, text me, text me, text me, dear God, the never ending fountain of fat, stupid trivia. I deserve a medal.”  
  
“You deserve to be shoved off a cliff,” Mickey said. “Y’know what, mate? I’ve seen a lot of things killin’ off humans for nothin’ but profit and greed, but at least they was all aliens. Between Slitheen an’ Daleks an’ bloody big spiders, you’re the first monster I ever met.”  
  
“And for what?” the Doctor asked, his gaze stormy. “What do you get out of all this?”  
  
“Don’t you see?” Lance replied. “What's the point of it all if the Human Race is nothing? That's what the Empress can give me. The chance to... go out there. To see it. The size of it all. I think you understand that, don't you, Doctor?”  
  
“Tradin’ your soul for a day on the moon.”  
  
Lance’s mouth tightened. “Save your judgements, Doctor. We don’t need them, all we need is Donna.”  
  
“Well, good luck on that,” the Doctor replied. “You’ve lost your army, what’ll you do, then?”  
  
“Oh, you mean this army?” Lance held up the robot remote and Mickey frantically checked his pockets. He hit a button, and the Santas raised their heads again.  
  
“At arms!” the Empress hissed.  
  
“Don’t you hurt them!” Donna said, shoving herself in front of the others, crowding them behind her.  
  
“Oi, that’s not-” Mickey tried to interrupt but she spoke over him.  
  
“No, I won’t let them!”  
  
“D’you always fuss this much?” the Doctor asked, giving her a side glance.  
  
“We’re about to die!” she shot back.  
  
“Take aim!” the Racnoss ordered.  
  
“Of course we’re not,” he said to Donna. He gave a slightly mad grin to the Empress. “Did you know that Huon particles can work in reverse?”  
  
There was a pause as the Racnoss stared at him.  
  
“If Donna can teleport herself into my ship.” He held up a small vial and twisted it. “My ship can bring itself to her.”  
  
Donna began to glow, and they heard the Empress scream “FIRE!” as the TARDIS formed around them.  
  
“I hate when you do this sort of thing,” Mickey said, sagging against a rail.  
  
“What, save your life? Always knew you were an idiot, didn’t peg you for ungrateful.” The Doctor rushed for the console, slamming and twisting at controls. “Follow me!” He ran for the doors toward the interior of the ship, the others hot on his heels.  
  
“What?” Tommy asked, slowing. “This isn’t the hall!” The normally coral walls were dark and metallic, and it smelled musty.  
  
“It’s _a_ hall and he said to run down it, so run!” Donna grabbed his elbow and pulled.  
  
“But this isn’t the normal hallway!”  
  
“Keep it closed off,” the Doctor said, reaching a doorway and throwing it open. “Don’t use it, don’t need it, don’t want it.” The room looked like a junkyard, bits of blackened machinery and half-empty containers littering the floor. He found the box he was looking for and shoved it at Mickey. “Take that to the console room.”  
  
It was large and awkward but the young man nodded and shifted it in his arms until he could move quickly back the way they had come.  
  
Tommy and Donna found themselves with arms full of what looked oddly like oversized plastic Easter eggs. The Doctor grabbed a tool that Tommy couldn’t identify and hurried them back up to the front.  
  
“What are we doing?” Donna asked.  
  
“Take those,” the Doctor gestured at the box Mickey had carried. It was full of bottles. “Fill up those.” He pointed at the eggs.  
  
It was quick work to find the plug at the top of the containers, and in a few minutes they had transferred all of the liquid from the silvery bottles into the pastel eggs. They sealed them, and then stepped back.  
  
“Seriously, though, what are we doing?” Donna asked again.  
  
“You filled those up, now you’re going to hush while I do something very clever,” the Doctor replied. He was working with the machine he had pulled from the other room, running his screwdriver over it in intricate patterns that looked familiar but Tommy couldn’t place.  
  
“Better luck tellin’ her to stop breathing,” Mickey said.  
  
“And yet who’s the one talking?” Tommy asked.  
  
“Shh!” Donna said.  
  
“Thank you,” the Doctor replied.  
  
There was a sudden lurch and the device, whatever it was, slipped from the Doctor’s hands. Tommy leapt for it, catching it before it could fall beneath the grates. The next lurch sent him to the floor, knocking the breath from him.  
  
“Bloody hell, that hurt,” he moaned.  
  
“Alright?” the Doctor asked, though his focus was firmly on the console as he darted around it, making adjustments and twisting knobs.  
  
Tommy sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “Fine, what’s going on?”  
  
“They’re pullin’ us back,” the Doctor replied. “Usin’ my own tricks against me, that’s what I get.”  
  
“Well, can’t you stop it?” Donna demanded. “Hasn't it got a handbrake? Can't you reverse or warp or beam or something?”  
  
“Why does everyone always want Spock?” the Doctor asked, grabbing for a mallet and slamming it into a particularly stubborn button. “Sometimes all you need is a little -” he huffed and pulled a lever, “-bit,” he worked the bicycle pump, “of creativity!”  
  
They stopped.  
  
“Did it work?” Mickey asked, unwrapping himself from the rail he’d been gripping.  
  
“Let’s have a look!” the Doctor replied cheerfully. He opened the door and the quartet peered out. It was the same room they had left before. The Racnoss stood across from them, the robots armed and surrounding her. The difference was that they were observing it from about twenty feet above the ground.  
  
“Your lift will not save you, Time Lord,” the Empress hissed. “My children will wake today, without the Bride if we must!”  
  
Donna let out a choked, horrified gasp, and they followed her gaze upward. Lance was struggling against a web holding him to the ceiling.  
  
“You useless cow!” he spat. “You can’t even do the one thing you were meant for!”  
  
“I never thought I’d say this about a man, but you’re a worse husband than my dad!” Tommy said. “And he tried to have my granny locked away with the police after an alien ate her face!”  
  
Mickey paused and looked back at the Doctor. “An’ you wonder why Gitta an’ I don’t want to travel with you.”  
  
“He’s no husband! I’m getting a divorce the second we’re done!” Donna said, glaring at Lance.  
  
“Not today!” The Racnoss cackled. “Today the Bride shall become the Widow! Activate the particles! Purge every last one!”  
  
Donna gasped and dropped to her knees as a glow began to surround her again. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, keeping her inside the doors.  
  
“And release!”  
  
It was like a wave crested, and every ounce drained from her. The part of her that leaned over the edge dropped to the pit below, while the rest made a sickly splash as they fell between the grates of the ship.  
  
“Great, I guess I’ll be mopping that up?” Tommy asked.  
  
“Since I’ve got to shred the atomic structure, I think I’ll take it on,” the Doctor replied. “I’ve got a wet-dry vac around here somewhere.”  
  
Beyond the doors, the Empress laughed. “The secret heart unlocks. And they will awaken from their sleep of Ages.”  
  
“Who will? What's down there?” Donna asked.  
  
Lance glared at her. “How thick are you?”  
  
More cackling emerged from the Empress as she straightened to her full height. “My children, the long lost Racnoss. Now will be born to feast on flesh. The web-star shall come to me.” She gave a many-toothed smile. “My babies will be hungry. They need sustenance. Perish the web!”  
  
“No!” Lance cried. “She’s right there, you can still get her -- use her, not me!”  
  
“Oh, my funny little Lance! But you are quite impolite to your wife. The Empress does not approve.” She raised a claw and sliced through the web the held him in place.  
  
“Lance!” Donna screamed and tried to reach for him, nearly losing her balance as she leaned too far. The Doctor grasped the back of her dress, catching her before her momentum could throw her down into the pit.  
  
There was a loud ripping noise as seams gave way, and suddenly the only thing holding up the dress was Donna’s arm pressed against it. She glared at the Doctor as the Racnoss cackled.  
  
“Harvest the humans! Reduce them to meat.” There was a sound from below, like cracks of thunder that penetrated even through the thick concrete. “My children are climbing towards me and none shall stop them!”  
  
The Doctor’s face hardened again, leaving no emotion in his steely blue eyes. “I’m offering you one last chance to leave this planet. To find a home where you and your family can live your lives in peace. I’m telling you now. Accept or lose it all.”  
  
There was false apology in her voice. “Oh -- I'm afraid I have to decline.” And she laughed again.  
  
He took a deep breath. “So it is, then.”  
  
He closed the doors and crossed back to the console quickly. “Mickey, hold this lever in place.” He put the man’s hand on it and pushed up. “Donna, when I tell you, press that button there -- no! The purple one; that’s not purple that’s blue!” He gave up with a frustrated sigh and put her finger over the correct one.  
  
“Apparently they don’t have color wheels on Mars,” Donna muttered. “ _That’s_ pink.”  
  
“Fuschia,” Tommy said.  
  
“Can we get on with it?” Mickey asked.  
  
The Doctor circled the console, adjusting a few dials and then took a deep breath. His expression was pained when he looked at his companions. “I never thought she’d be used as a weapon again,” he said. He shook off the emotion and pointed at Donna. “Press it now.”  
  
She pressed down and a strange sense of vertigo hit them all for a moment. “What’s happening?” she demanded.  
  
“We’re dropping into the hole,” the Doctor replied.  
  
“We’re goin’ _toward_ the baby alien spider nest?” Mickey demanded.  
  
“Yes.” The Doctor crossed to the door and opened it, watching the walls rush past them. “Lower the lever back to center.”  
  
Their descent slowed in time with the motion before stabilizing.  
  
“Tom,” the Doctor called. “Help me with these.” He began to toss the eggs into the cavern. They were heavier than Tommy expected and he started to roll them to the doors instead.  
  
“What are these things?” Tommy asked as he shoved the last one out to the pit beyond.  
  
There was a brief pause before the Doctor replied. “Pesticide.” He slammed the doors shut and turned back to Mickey. “Pull down, all the way!”  
  
He complied and they all felt a lurch in their stomachs as they shot back up toward the laboratory. The Doctor opened the door and stared at the Empress, his arms folded across his chest. The look she gave him was part confusion and part triumph.  
  
“And what did you discover, Time Lord?” she asked. “Will you run from your destruction?”  
  
“No.” His voice was flat. He lifted a small device in his hand and pressed a button. There was a pause and then hideous screams began to emanate from the pit. “I will not run.”  
  
She looked between him and the hole, quickly stretching to her full height. “My children! No!” she shrieked. “What have you done?”  
  
A greenish grey gas was rising upward, puffing into the room. The Racnoss let out a keening wail of grief as the effects of the Doctor’s work became evident. The gas was permeating the room now and she stumbled, wobbling as she reached toward the TARDIS, rage on her face. She tried to grip the edge with a claw but she overbalanced on unsteady legs. There was an instant where her anger changed to terror before her legs gave out below her and she tumbled head-first into the pit below.  
  
The glasses around the room were shattering, the liquid boiling away as it met the gas. The Doctor watched silently as it filled the room, only stepping away when it neared the doors of the ship. He shut them behind him, and faced his companions.  
  
“Zitrunium gas,” he said. “Billions of years ago it was used to eradicate Huon particles from the universe.”  
  
“So it...eradicated them?” Donna asked. “But the spiders -”  
  
“Huons are part of the Racnoss DNA, they can’t live without them,” the Doctor said. “I just committed genocide.” He scoffed to himself. “Again.”  
  
Tommy shook his head. “You gave them chances. More than once -- you tried and they didn’t listen.”  
  
“Don’t count on me sayin’ it ever again, but you did right, Doctor,” Mickey said. He let out a breath. “They wasn’t gonna stop.”  
  
He gave a short nod then crossed to the console, making a few adjustments before the wheezing groaning noise of dematerialization filled the room. There was a heavy thump and then he nodded toward the door. “Chiswick,” he said.  
  
Donna stared at him for a moment and then, shifting the grip that held her torn dress to her chest, went to open it. She peered into the road beyond. “It’s my house!” she said, surprised. “How’d you know?”  
  
“One of my many talents,” he said with a faint smile.  
  
“Or, as we call it on Earth, the internet,” Mickey said.  
  
The Doctor gave him a brief scowl, then followed Donna out of the ship. The others remained behind, sagging against the rails inside.  
  
“Told you I’d get you home,” he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded down the street. “Think you can make it the rest of the way without disaster?”  
  
“You’re one to talk,” Donna replied, shaking her head. She took a deep breath. “I guess it has been though. Lost my job, got kidnapped by aliens, got married and became a widow in one day.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“Nah, it‘s better I guess, no girl wants a life with a man who’s planning to kill you.” She blinked back tears. “Just wish -- well, I guess disaster’s right after all.”  
  
“You deserve better,” the Doctor replied. He gave her a small smile. “You’re better than that, Donna Noble.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I am,” she said. She swallowed hard and looked at the house behind her. “I'd better get inside. They'll be worried.”  
  
“Sure, can’t leave them to make it through all that fruitcake on their own.”  
  
“Now you know why I hate Christmas,” she replied, giving him a quirking smile.  
  
He grinned at her, a bit more genuinely. “On your own there.”  
  
“You know, you could come in,” she said, tilting her head back toward the window. “Christmas dinner. Can even bring those two you’ve got in the box.”  
  
“No time, gotta be off,” he replied. “Leave them together any longer an’ Tommy’ll be invitin’ Rickey around for tea every time we’re in London.”  
  
“Alright, but, Doctor?” She waited until he met her eyes fully. “Take care of yourself. And...I hope I see you again, someday.”  
  
“Have a fantastic life, Donna Noble,” he said. He gave her one last grin and a wave before entering the TARDIS and closing the door behind him.  
  
Mickey and Tommy were sitting on the other side of the console, whatever conversation they had been in ended as soon as the Doctor entered.  
  
“What’ll happen to her now?” Mickey asked. “Since I think her job’s gone.”  
  
“She’ll do alright,” the Doctor replied. “She’s got an inheritance to look into.”  
  
“Yeah, they did get married for real, didn’t they?” Tommy pondered aloud. “And I bet he had good savings. Life insurance too. She should be alright for a while.”  
  
“An’ hopefully get better taste in men,” added Mickey. “Even without aliens that bloke was a prat.”  
  
“Right, well, wish her luck,” the Doctor said. He flipped a switch on the console and the TARDIS wheezed for a moment before settling back down. “Just outside your block, you can head on up.”  
  
“Thanks, boss.” Mickey ruffled Tommy’s hair before heading to the door. “Ring if you need help again.”  
  
“Yes, yes, we’re very close friends, shut the door behind you, will you?”  
  
Mickey rolled his eyes but did as the Doctor asked.  
  
Tommy leaned back against the jump seat as he watched the series of movements that would take them from this time and place. The familiar noise of dematerialization faded.  
  
“Been a long day,” he said. “Think I’ll head off.”  
  
The Doctor gave him a brief nod. “Sleep well, lad,” he said.  
  
“Try to get some rest?” Tommy suggested.  
  
“Of course. Like you said, long day.” Neither of them believed it.  
  
Tommy gave a small wave and headed down the hall into the depths of the ship.  
  
The Doctor circled the console a few times then slid beneath it, suddenly remembering important maintenance that he'd been putting off for a couple of regenerations. Very complex – would take all of his attention to work on. Yes, that was a good idea.  
  
He could think about that.  



End file.
